


A Long Enough Kept Secret

by QueenbyMoonlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Multi, My First Fanfic, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenbyMoonlight/pseuds/QueenbyMoonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! This is my first fanfic and I am really excited. I hope anyone who's reading likes this, if you don't it's cool. I know my writing isn't the best, so sorry for any plotholes or mis-spellings and bad grammar. (English isn't my first language). Any helpful comments would be lovely.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Irene's sister

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first fanfic and I am really excited. I hope anyone who's reading likes this, if you don't it's cool. I know my writing isn't the best, so sorry for any plotholes or mis-spellings and bad grammar. (English isn't my first language). Any helpful comments would be lovely.

Irene watches the ever ticking clock. 

_Staring at the clock won't make the time pass faster.._

After a few hours, she almost loses hope.  _Damn it, I need her. It would be a miracle if she even came..._

 

_~_

 

"Hello, Irene." A familiar voice speaks.

The door to her room opens and a woman in her late twenty's strolls in. Her long, golden hair is loose and curled and it bounces with every confident step she takes. She is wearing a tight yet modest green dress which compliments her emerald eyes. At first, Irene can't recognize her, but after the blonde glares at her as if knowing she is not remembered, she has a spark of recognition.

Irene relaxes. _She's here. Good._

Stasia makes her way across the room to a chair by Irene and sits down.

"You were getting a bit late there love, thought you'd never show up." Irene casually remarks. 

"I'm so sorry." Stasia says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, what was it that was  _so_  important that you absolutely  _had_ to have me leave Sweden and come here half way across the Earth to your hiding place in America?" She inquired with a huff.

"I wanted to know if you could do me a favor." Irene looks over at Stasia who is indifferently checking her perfectly manicured gold nails. "There is someone in London that I would like you to check up on."

Stasia looks up at her."Wow, Irene, I am  _truly_  impressed. You call me for the first time in practically  _forever,_  just to make me do some of your dirty work. Excuse me, but I have better things to attend to." She started to get up from her seat but Irene shoved her back down.

"Listen to me right now Stasia, this is the first time we have spoken directly to each other in 16 years. The least you could do is check on someone for your older sister." 

"Can you at least tell me who it is?" 

Irene considers. Should she tell her? Stasia might refuse and that would not be good. Then again, she herself was still in hiding and the inability to fulfill a request from Jim Moriarty, one she complied to already, would result in the worst case.  _It might be worth a try then._

"Sherlock Holmes."

Stasia stares in amazement. "Really? You've met him?"

"Yes I have. Why are you so curious?" Irene asks. 

"Well he is pretty famous you know. Plus, that blog his mate runs, is quite the read. You should really check some of it out." 

"That doesn't matter for now." Irene stated desperate for focus on the subject. "I know you have some business in London to attend to not too far away so I thought it wouldn't be too difficult to bump in to Sherlock  _'accidentally'._  All you have to do is make.. _friends_..with him and get as close as you can. Whatever you learn that is of importance you should report to me."

"Hmm, what do I get out of it?" Stasia questioned, her face unreadable.

"Anything you want." Irene hated making bargains with her younger sister but there was no other way.

Stasia grinned and her eyes took on a calculating look that meant she was already forming a plan in her mind.

She rose from her seat, standing up to face Irene. And with a glint in her eyes said;

"Alright."


	2. Stasia's POV

After I agreed, I immediately got on a plane to London. Might as well start as soon as I can.     

I never actually realized why I accepted Irene's request. I suppose I was a bit intrigued though. My older sister, whom I haven't spoken to in almost twenty years, calls me all of a sudden and wants me to visit her in America. I actually lied a bit. I wasn't busy at all at the moment, just some paperwork, but my assistants could cover that. So when Irene wants me to come over I'm all for it, yet I have to admit I was anxious. Our argument in the past was basically the reason this tension grew between us...

Anyway, she told me all of the details for my mission. First, I would have to get a disguise. Ugh, of course I would need to change my appearance. I'm not stupid.

Secondly, she gave me a couple tips about Sherlock. She told me that he is quite a tough cookie. He is cold and hard as ice, but his friend, Dr. John Watson is the only one he is something close to warm with. Irene suggests I seduce and befriend John first so I could get to Sherlock through him. I agreed.

Thirdly, she provided me with a fake job, a mortician. Not too bad I guess, allows me to make myself look in any way I want. 

When I asked her where I would be staying, she told me of No. 10 Manchester Street Hotel. Before I could make a comment she informs me that she will be paying for everything.

 _' "Consider it an " I'm Sorry Gesture " " '._   I remember her saying.

 

Once I have read over my identity file, I get to work.

 

The 'personality' part of the file stated that I could be a bit free as long as I come off as  an intelligent and slightly sarcastic person. Hell, I know I can do this now.

 

Apparently, there are no guidelines on appearance so I will have to think of a look myself. 

 

Once I decide, I go into the bathroom of the private jet and start my transformation.

 

-

 

 

As I finish, I take one last look in the full-size mirror and barely recognize myself.

 

My hair, instead of its natural golden blonde, is now fully blue-green. I keep it down so it can finish drying properly. I decided on not changing my facial appearence for sake of discovery. If Mr. Holmes is really that perceptive in real life, he would probably see through any fake installment like contacts or piercings and wonder why I would have them.

I am so so glad I took those acting classes back in secondary school. Without being proclaimed best actress of the school, I doubt I would have enough knowledge to pull this whole scheme off.

I roll my neck and stretch, admiring the way my skinny black jeans hug my bottom half. Damn my ass looks fine, it will most definately get the attention of Doctor Watson.

 

I exit the bathroom and sit down in my seat waiting for my plane to land.

 

 

_Can't wait to meet you Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, I can't wait..._

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding another chapter soon hopefully, don't worry this story gets better I promise.


	3. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i'm bad at summaries so just read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays and here's a new chapter

Sherlock was bored.  _Again._

He spent all day sprawled on the couch in his mind palace, tidying up in there while he had nothing to do. It turned out that he had an entire wing dedicated to John. He couldn't decide if this extreme amount of sentiment should be alarming or not. After all, he enjoyed all the data he has gathered about the man who never failed to surprise him. For example, his personality. Very high standards and moral; the bad should be punished whist the good are to be rewarded. He was also an "adrenaline junkie". The man, not unlike Sherlock himself, could not go too long in mundane conditions. 

That is why you could literally feel the bad mood coming off of him when he walked into the flat, groceries in hand.

It had been raining relentlessly for the past week and Sherlock could see the bad weather was causing John's shoulder to ache and his limp was slowly returning.

The doctor took off his coat and shoes, then went to his room to get ready for a shower. 

Once the detective could hear the water turn on, he sprang up from the sofa and went into their small kitchen. Suddenly, a peculiar idea came to him. _Why not make John tea? He would definitely be happier and more cooperative in an experiment I might need him for. In addition, this weather is just dreadful. A cuppa would be good for both of us._ Making up his mind, Sherlock started making the hot beverage. After the kettle whistled, he poured out the boiling water into two cups and mixed the tea in. After it was done, he brought the cups into the living room and put them on the coffee table. As a last thought, he went into his own room and changed into a casual suit with the wine coloured button-down. He then proceeded back to the main room and sat in his chair to wait for John. He was actually quite curious about John's possible reaction to the tea. After all, this would be the first time he had known Sherlock to be capable of making a cuppa.  _The man considers me brilliant yet is confused when I delete the unnecessary things. Like the solar system. Who needs that knowledge anyway? There are more important things._

The former soldier came out of the shower not very much later. He came down the stairs into the room dressed in dark trousers and the oatmeal jumper that was secretly Sherlock's favourite. 

He sat down in his armchair opposite Sherlock and his eyes saw the teacups on the coffee table.

"Sherlock, did you actually make us tea or is it poisoned in someway?" He questioned.

"John, I assure you that liquid is anything but poisoned and does it really astonish you if I decide to brew a simple beverage once in a while?" 

He still looked unsure but took a careful sip of the tea. After realizing it was fine, he smiled warmly and something in Sherlock's stomach fluttered. For some reason, that happened every time he made John clearly happy or when the man looked at him or said his name in that gruff voice of his...

_Stop. He is talking, I need to focus._

"Sherlock."

John put down his tea and came over to the consulting detective where he was in his chair.

_Close proximity. Not good. I might do something regretful. Need to get out quickly._

"Are you-" The doctor started to ask as his flatmate jumped up from his chair. 

"I'm going to the morgue. Don't go after me. I need to clear my head." He said briskly while putting on his coat and scarf and heading out the door.

 

                                                                                                                              -

It had finally stopped raining when he got to the morgue. He went into his lab and had just started on one of his experiments when someone walked in.

She had the way of a confident person. Her back was straight and her chin tilted upwards. She must have been up all night with exams; there were bags under her eyes and a coffee paper cup in hand. She was also rather young, perhaps just finishing at university. Her hair was peculiarly beautiful, green and blue blended to make an ocean colour which complimented her ivory skin and emerald eyes. She had dyed it herself, specks of permanent dye still apparent on her hands. So, skillful yet a bit careless. She was dressed fashionably in a leather jacket and form hugging jeans with brown combat boots. She seemed as if she was looking for someone judging by her eyes searching the room.

He cleared his throat.

The young woman turned sharply towards him.

"Oh hello. Sorry I wasn't expecting you here. Have you seen Dr. Molly Hooper anywhere?" She asked him in a silvery voice with an average English accent.

"Why do you need her?" He spoke to see what kind of reaction it would bring from her. 

Her stance took on defensive and her hands found her hips. "And why should I tell you? It's none of your business."

_Interesting._

"You are an intern perhaps. You are looking for Dr. Hooper because you are her stand-in. You have been up all night studying for exams that you had this morning and considering your posture you are sure you did well. However, one thing you are unsure about is this job. You don't know if this is what you really want but taking in your clothes; they are worn but well-kept; so, you are low on money and need a job. This is maybe due to debt caused by the high-cost university you go to. You have many of the skills required of a mortician, they wouldn't have taken you in otherwise, so you apply here to be a stand-in.

"Anything wrong?" He asked smirking at her astonished look.

"That was  _brilliant!"_ She exclaimed. "There is one thing you're wrong about though." 

"Oh?" Sherlock questioned. "What about?"

She smirked. "I'm not a student. I'm just low on cash pretty boy." 

_Hmm. Peculiar._

"What is your name? I am Sherlock Holmes."

He could see something spark in her eyes but it passed too quickly for him to recognize.

The woman looked up at him with eyes full of mischiveous light. 

 

"My name's Stasia. It's a pleasure meeting you Mr. Holmes."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Rockndudette for all the encouragement!


End file.
